Psalms 39
1 To the chief music-maker. Of Jeduthun. A Psalm. Of David. I said, I will give attention to my ways, so that my tongue may do no wrong; I will keep my mouth under control, while the sinner is before me.
Abụ Ọma nke dịrị onyeisi abụ maka Jedutun. Abụ Ọma Devid. Asịrị m, “Aga m elezi anya nʼụzọ m niile ma debe ire m ka m ghara ikwuhie; aga m eji ihe kechie ọnụ m mgbe m nọ nʼetiti ndị ajọ omume.”
2 I made no sound, I said no word, even of good; and I was moved with sorrow.
Ma mgbe m mechiri ọnụ m ma nọrọ duu, jụ ikwu ọ bụladị ihe ọbụla dị mma, oke ihe mgbu m mụbara.
3 My heart was burning in my breast; while I was deep in thought the fire was lighted; then I said with my tongue,
Obi m kporo ọkụ nʼime m, ma mgbe m na-atụgharị ihe ndị a nʼuche, ọkụ ahụ nọ na-ere; mgbe ahụ ekwuru m okwu sị:
4 Lord, give me knowledge of my end, and of the measure of my days, so that I may see how feeble I am.
“O Onyenwe anyị, gosi m ọgwụgwụ nke ndụ m na ọnụọgụgụ ụbọchị m niile; mee ka m mara na ndụ m na-agafe ngwangwa.
5 You have made my days no longer than a hand's measure; and my years are nothing in your eyes; truly, every man is but a breath. (Selah)
I meela ka ụbọchị m niile bụrụ naanị ihe dị nta; ogologo afọ m niile adịghị ka ihe ọbụla nʼihu gị. Ndụ onye ọbụla bụ naanị otu nkuume ọbụladị ndị dịka ha guzosirike. (Sela)
6 Truly, every man goes on his way like an image; he is troubled for no purpose: he makes a great store of wealth, and has no knowledge of who will get it.
“Nʼezie onye ọbụla na-ejegharị dịka onyinyo nʼefu ka ha na-ekwogharị nʼotu ebe na nke ọzọ, na-akpakọba akụ, na-amaghị onye ọ ga-abụ nke ya nʼikpeazụ.
7 And now, Lord, what am I waiting for? my hope is in you.
“Ma ugbu a, Onyenwe m, gịnị ka m na-ele anya ya? Olileanya m dị nʼime gị.
8 Make me free from all my sins; do not let me be shamed by the man of evil behaviour.
Zọpụta m site na mmehie m niile; ekwela ka m bụrụ ihe ọchị nye ndị nzuzu.
9 I was quiet, and kept my mouth shut; because you had done it.
Agbachiri m nkịtị, ajụrụ m ikwu okwu, nʼihi na ọ bụ gị mere ihe a.
10 No longer let your hand be hard on me; I am wasted by the blows of your hand.
Kwụsị iti m ihe; ihe otiti nke aka gị ezuola m ahụ.
11 By the weight of your wrath against man's sin, the glory of his form is wasted away; truly every man is but a breath. (Selah)
Ị na-abara ndị mmadụ mba ma na-ata ha ahụhụ nʼihi mmehie ha; ị na-eripịa akụnụba ha dịka nla, mmadụ ọbụla bụ naanị otu nkuume. (Sela)
12 Let my prayer come to your ears, O Lord, and give attention to my cry, make an answer to my weeping: for my time here is short before you, and in a little time I will be gone, like all my fathers.
“O Onyenwe anyị, nụrụ ekpere m, gekwaa ntị nʼakwa m maka enyemaka; emechila ntị gị nye ibe akwa m. Nʼihi ana m ebinyere gị dịka onye ọbịa, dịka onye ije, dịka nna nna m ha mere.
13 Let your wrath be turned away from me, so that I may be comforted, before I go away from here, and become nothing.
Lepụ anya na-ebe m nọ, ka m nwee ike kporie ndụ ọzọ, tupu m hapụ ebe a laa, a gaghị ahụkwa m ọzọ.”
